


The Favor

by Gamermom



Series: To Woo(e) a Hunter [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gamermom/pseuds/Gamermom
Summary: In a desperate attempt to save his boys, Bobby Singer makes a deal with the king of hell. Now he owes a little quid pro quo.





	1. Stiches

# Chapter One – Stiches

Bobby staggered down the hall of the frat house, his breathing labored and blood dripping from his forehead blinding him in one eye. One arm hangs uselessly from the socket, dislocated, hopefully, and not broken. The other arm held Sam onhis back, the tall man’s feet hitting the back of Bobby’s knees. He was defenseless, but Dean had the lead, shooting rock salt into Imps. Fucking Imps. Bobby can’t believe he is going to be killed by something that sounds so cute. The damm things were only about three feet high, with scaly wings and sharp ass fangs and talons. A couple of the fuckers would not be a big deal, but the jack ass frat boys had opened a gate of them in their failed attempt at summoning a succubus. Fucking frat boys were going to get Bobby dead.

Sam was not breathing. Well, Bobby couldn’t check his pulse or anything, but the labored rise and fall of the boy’s chest against Bobby’s back had stopped. Bobby didn’t know how long ago Sam had been like that, or if the boy was dead. The old hunter forced his way into the frat’s common room, where the ritual had taken place. He stepped over the corpse of a fraternity pledge who sought to summon a demon for sex. Stupid, stupid, boy. Dean grabbed the can of salt and drew a circle as Bobby closed the doors. Bobby gently laid Sam down inside the circle.

“Check for a pulse”, Bobby commanded Dean and picked up the shot gun. Dean fumbled around his brother looking for a pulse and finding none. He started humming Staying Alive and applied chest compressions to Sam. He didn’t care how cold Sam felt or that CPR made him bleed out faster from the wound on his side. If Sam was dying in this stupid frat house in Minneapolis, than Dean sure as hell was going to do the same.

Bobby pointed the shot gun at the door he had managed to barricade. The imps banged against his wards, they would be in any minute. It didn’t matter. Sam was not breathing and Dean was bleeding out. His boys were dying in a fucking frat house. It wasn’t like Bobby minded dying. Frankly life had already gone on a little long for him. John was dead. Ellen was dead. Rufus was dead and Bobby had killed him. The apocalypse didn’t happen and Bobby had some credit for that.  That kid Garth was too stupid to live, but he was good at connecting people. Hunting would go on without him. But his boys could not die here. There was so little happy in their lives. They had earned time to try to be happy. Bobby could not let them die.

The frat boys had set up the altar properly. Bobby could tell that from where he stood in the circle. Dean had already made it through the first chorus of Staying Alive. The Imps had almost busted in. There was no time. Everything was still ready to go. All Bobby had to do was recite the rite with the right name and a different demon would be summoned. But there was no time for a devil’s trap, protection ward or anything to compel the demon to obey after it showed up. It was a desperate ploy with no planning and no back up. When had any such choice ever served them well? Except Dean was bleeding out and Sam, Sam might already be dead. His soul, his life, none of it mattered. All that mattered was his boys. As the door burst open and Imps filled the room, Bobby stepped out of the circle. He crossed the room to the altar, firing rock salt rounds as he went.

“Bobby!” Dean shouted, but his focus was on pumping his brother’s heart. All he could do was trust the man that had yet to let him down.

Bloody gashes were torn down Bobby’s back as he dropped his guard. His only working arm was occupied with the ritual. Reciting the rite, Bobby bled into the chalice. Imps tore at him, as the old hunter was unable to defend himself. Bobby ignored the pain as he named the demon he was summoning.

“Bollocks” came the reply as Bobby’s spell hung in the air. The perfectly clad demon stood in the middle of the room, completely unbound. His dark eyes surveyed the room. Taking it all in his eyes locked with Bobby.

“Need a little help, luv?” the demon queried. Bobby shot another imp.

“Help my boys”, was his only reply. His voice was rough, like rotgut poured over gravel. The desperation would be obvious even to Cas, who, incidentally, was not answering Dean’s prayers and was no were near Minneapolis at the moment.

Crowley crossed the room, smirking and blasting imps as he went. He stood outside the circle of salt and watched Dean pumping his brother’s heart for him. Dean looked up, his eyes pleading. Crowley didn’t break eye contact as he asked Bobby,

“You will owe me big, right luv?”

“Yeah”, was Bobby’s only reply. Crowley kicked at the salt and stepped into the circle. Dean watched the demon, never stopping in his compressions or singing. Crowley smirked, knelt down and _breathed_ into Sam. He stood and snapped this figures, both brothers disappearing for sight. He turned, straightens his suit and took in the trashed room; dead frat boys in silken robes, Bobby bleeding over an altar, and _imps_ everywhere. Crowley blasted a few more of the buggers still attacking Bobby. He noticed how Bobby’s left arm hung limply at his side, and strode over to the bearded hunter, grasped his left arm and wretched it back into the socket. Despite the sharp pain, Bobby didn’t make a sound.  

“Where are my boys?” Bobby growled.

“Hospital. I assume that you need this mess cleaned up before you head there yourself, yes darling?”

Bobby nodded as he moved his arm around and pressed his handkerchief against the bleeding on his forehead. _Huh, guess I’ll live through this after all_ , he thought.  _Imagine that_. Sure his back was still ripped up somethin’ fierce, but he had worse.  Bobby turned back to the altar, flipped through the spell book, and landed on the page the frat bros had royally fucked up.

“I can open the portal again, easy. Need a little help herding the damn buggers through though.” 

“Just stay there and rest, luv. Daddy will take care of this”, Crowley smirked. Bobby grunted, ignored the flirting and got to work. The demon sauntered out of the room, picking up a baseball bat that had been propped up against the doorway. It was not a tire iron, but it would have to do.

The house was large, three stories if you counted the basement, which the imps did. Crowley had no intention of searching each nook and cranny for the little pests so he whistled, high and loud. While imps might not answer to their King, they did listen to _hellhounds_. And hellhounds listened to Crowley. Loud growls turned to high whines as they answered their master’s summons.

“Ah, poppets, be good for papa and round up these pesky little devilkins and herd them back to the portal.” The hounds shot off after their prey, eager to please their master. “Oh and Juliette, Romeo, don’t eat the mortal. He is papa’s toy”. The hounds whined in response.

Bobby wiped the blood from his brow, his cap having been lost some time ago. He worked quickly, reading the spell and gathering the components, making sure everything was exactly so. He took a deep breath to still his trembling hands and focus on his work. Now was not the time to worry about the Winchesters. If anyone was going to cheat death, it would be those boys. Bobby just had to trust Crowley had gotten them out safe. _Trust Crowley, what kind of natural born idjit was he?!?_ Bobby was many things, but stupid was not one of them. He knew Crowley would try to screw him over. No matter what that limey demon asked for, Bobby knew it would not be the whole truth; that Crowley would try to play him. It didn’t matter that Bobby had made a promise, admitted to “owing him”, or was willing to pay his debt. The demon would try to play him and Bobby just had to be prepared.

Crowley was a problem for later. Now Bobby just needed to get the portal open, get the imps through it, and then get to the hospital. Not just to confirm that Sam and Dean were still among the living, but to get his own battered and bloody body looked at. Everything else would be there to deal with after.

“Robert, luv, still among the living?” Crowley called.

“Yeah, you got those damm imps wrangled yet?”

“Coming your way, darling. Is the portal open?”

“Balls!” Bobby growled. He turned back to the altar, checked the spell again and got working on the ritual. He opened the portal just as a hoard of imps poured in the room. The hunter could hear, but not see, at least two huge hellhounds herding the little buggers in towards the portal. In the rear was Crowley. His short dark hair was disheveled; his eyes glowed red as he grinned at Bobby. He looked wild, demonic and thoroughly amused. On his finger he twirled Bobby’s lost hat. Bobby swallowed hard at the sight of him.

The hounds herded the imps through the portal, their screams all but deafening. Bobby watched them go, his face hard and unreadable.

“That all of them?”

“Course luv, my pups don’t miss”, Crowley laughed as he put Bobby’s hat back on the old hunter.

Bobby released a deep breath and let the portal close. Crowley had to admire the control his pet had over the rite. Granted it was a rather low level spell, requiring no real power, only the correct ingredients, a working knowledge of Latin and will. It was the will that impressed him. It simply served to reinforce the fact that old hunter possessed a cunning mind and a powerful will in spades. It was almost enough to give the Rey del Infierno a run for his money. Crowley smiled at the good night he was having. He got to take his hounds for a run, worked out a little blood lust and Bobby Singer owed him a _favor_. It was a very good night.

Bobby did _not_ shiver at the predatory grin the demon shot him, even if he did feel like a piece of mutton being dangled over a pack of ravenous wolfs. The sounds those hellhounds made did nothing to calm his nerves, nor did the fact that he couldn’t see them. Again, it would do him no good to let Crowley see him sweat, so instead he fixed his cap and picked up the scattered weapons.

“What hospital did you plop the boys down at?”

Crowley sighed as he watched the hunter. His fun was over and he had to head back to Hell and the mountain of paperwork that waited for him. Bobby was clever, maybe he should use his favor and have the old man catch him up. But of course Crowley had seen Bobby’s filing system, he would more likely make the situation worse.

“The closest one, didn’t look up the name.”

Bobby grunted and headed out to where the impala was parked. His steps were a little wobbly, with the loss of adrenalin the pain and blood loss was catching up with him. Crowley followed him out and watched him fumble for the spare key and unlock the door.

He couldn’t help but smirk as he asked “Sure you are okay to drive there luv? Squirrel will kill you for scratching his baby despite you saving his life.”

The hunter leaned against the car. “I’m fine. Do you have a favor for me, or do you want an I.O.U.?”

Crowley couldn’t help his eyes from lighting up as he leaned in towards the hunter. “Oh I think I will save you for a rainy day. Remember you owe me big.”

Bobby just nodded and climbed into the sleek black car.  A knot had formed in this pit of his stomach, but he pushed it aside. Once again he had struck a deal with the devil, but it didn’t matter as long his boys were alive. He gripped the steering wheel tight, his knuckles turning white. Crowley was clever, evil and a cheater Bobby knew he had written him a blank check and fully intended to keep his promise, but that didn’t mean he would let the demon break him.

Crowley sauntered down into this throne room only to be bombarded by requests the moment he was seated. He had only been back a few minutes, yet already court was tedious. The king sprawled in his throne as Guthrie called demon after demon to present their case. Hell was Hell after all and even the king hated it. He hated the other demons, most were simply too stupid and petty, while the clever few were bent on over throwing him. Not that he blamed them, it was better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven, but it was by far best to run a game on Earth than be stuck in either Heaven or Hell. Honestly the only times Crowley could recall having _fun_ since becoming king was when he was topside.  Running Moose and Squirrel through his hoops and playing games was entertaining to say the least, but the only times he truly felt happy was on the South Dakota prairie. Robert Steven Singer was the only person to ever get out of a Crowley deal and now Crowley had him again. As his subjects approached and made their pleas, the demon king responded on autopilot. He couldn’t help wondering why Singer summoned him. He had the names of any number of lesser demons, ones that would be eager to have a hunter in their pocket and easier for Bobby to control. Yet he called on Crowley and the thought made him smile. Maybe it was the late night drinks that Crowley had shown up for after Bobby regained his soul. Or maybe he just wanted the best. Whatever the reason, Crowley was pleased. To keep the tedium at bay, the king promised himself that as soon as court was done and paperwork was caught up on, he could go topside and poke his pet. Check in on his investment and all that.

Guy couldn’t help but shiver as his king smiled. The crossroads demon wanted to make an impression on his boss, but the glee and feral smile were more notice than he wanted. He took his new orders from Guthrie and hurried out of the throne room, eager to impress and terrified to fail.

            Bobby leaned back in the hard plastic chair, his hat tipped back and his hands rubbing his face. When he showed up at the hospital three days prior, he had not taken the time to stich himself up or otherwise hide his wounds. The staff had insisted on treating him for “unknown animal attack” and releasing him the same day. He spent all the visiting hours in Sam and Dean’s room, shooting the shit and secretly keeping guard. His boys had been none too pleased with Crowley saving their collective ass, but as the alternate was them all being dead, the complaints were kept to a minimum.

Dean had been signed out for release earlier that morning, but he was still putzing around the room, showering and such. The doctor was in with Sam, hopefully signing off on his release. Bobby had been kicked out for the exam, so he couldn’t tell how bad it was. Sam’s left arm was propped up and it, along with most of his torso, was wrapped in a cast, but he was off the machines and bitching out Dean for stealing his Jell-O. Bobby was pretty sure the kid would live.

“I was going to bring balloons but they only had ‘Welcome Baby’ which I thought was a little premature”, a low British voice snarked.

“How’s Hell?” Bobby sassed back.

“Hell's fine. Hell's like a Swiss watch. Don't worry about Hell. Hell's complicated.”

Bobby grunted at the perfectly dressed demon sitting next to him. He hadn’t slept more than 10 hours in the last three days, was wearing the same clothes he had two days ago and hadn’t showered since yesterday.  He knew he looked like crap on a stick and the last person he wanted to deal with was Crowley.

“Hell’s not complicated. You’re just bored with being king, so you come up here to pester us poor mortals”.

Crowley shrugged. The hunter was not wrong.

“I need a vacation. I think I finally understand Lilith’s need to run away towards the end. It was not fear of dying so much as need to howl at the moon one more time.”

Bobby shuttered, remembering what Lilith’s vacation had been like. That bloody child was one of the top twenty bad things the hunter had ever dealt with, and he had killed his own wife. Twice. So it was with great trepidation that he asked,

“Yeah, what kind of vacation you going on?”

Now it was Crowley’s turn to groan as he watched a patient being rolled away on a gurney.

“Hell may be a Swiss watch but that does not mean I can take off and not wind it. By the time Lilith left for any length of time she had already been running things forever. Even still I and about half a dozen of her most trusted were plotting against her. She simply had stopped caring that close to be done with everything. So no running away for me”, Crowley added the last line mostly for himself.

“Well since you are not here with balloons, you here to cash in your favor?”

“Ha, not yet”

“Come on, Hell’s complicated but you don’t have anything you want me to do?” Bobby teased eager to pay his debt and be done with this.

 “Oh pet, I have plenty you could do for me, but it would be prudent to save you for a rainy day. Never know when I will need my ass pulled out of the fire”.

“Are you saying I am useful?” Bobby asked the ceiling, his cap pulled low over his face.

“Very. But you know that already.” Crowley allowed his eyes to trace over the hunter, without Bobby noticing. Sitting hard plastic seats bickering with this man was, well not quite fun, but pleasant he supposed. He could _not_ take a vacation.

“You complain about needing a vacation but you’re so focused on being prudent. Where is the fun in that?” Bobby tempted. The sooner he danced to the demon’s tune the sooner they could get back to business as usual. The usual being trapping him in a devil’s trap or blasting him rock salt. Besides the sooner Crowley cashed in this chip, the less time he would have to design a double cross, Bobby’s paranoia reasoned.

“There is no fun in being prudent, you are right. But there is also no fun in wasting an opportunity. Bollocks, I can’t take a vacation, but I can take one night off. You’re getting off easy Singer. I spent one evening having a fairly good time and gave you what you wanted most at the moment. You will return the favor. Spend the night, perhaps have some fun yourself and give me what I want the most, which is to howl at the moon.”

Bobby swallowed hard, pushed back his cap and looked hard at the demon. Lilith had possessed a small child, tortured and killed the girl’s family, while wearing her as meat suit. The kid’s mom had to step over the rotting corpse of her own mom to read bed time stories to a demon wearing her daughter. Bobby could not get the desperate eyes of the girl’s father out his mind.

“Yeah, what is your idea of howling at the moon?” Bobby asked, keeping all fear out his voice.

Crowley grinned, hard and feral. His eyes glowed red. “I want to go on a date”

“A what!?!” Bobby gasped.

“A date. You know dinner, dancing, sex. I am sure you have done this at least once before.”

 “I don’t dance”, was all a shocked Bobby could respond with.

Crowley laughed, finally being able flummox the plaid wearing redneck. “Fine no dancing, I will think of something else.”

“Is this a joke?”

Crowley could not contain his glee at this response. Bobby’s blush was _adorable_.

“No joke. You will pay me back for saving you and those denim covered nightmares by being my date. You will dress up,” Crowley’s eyes raked over Bobby’s disheveled ensemble, “On second thought I will have some clothes sent over. But you will take care with your appearance,” Crowley ticked off his fingers has he spoke. “You will be enjoyable company. Laugh, provide insight, make _conversation_. I am not looking for a sycophant, I have enough of that. I don’t mind a little sparing, but I am not interested in a martyr. You struck a deal and we both know this is going better for you than it could. Third, you will put out. A date is no fun if I go home with raging case of blue balls. So tidy up your bedroom, put on clean sheets, light a candle, I know you have some. Now how are your stiches?”

“Stiches?” Bobby repeated dumbly. Seldom had he ever been this thrown, but he owed his life to his quick recovery time and this was no difference. “I’m healing well. I should be fine by the end of the week.”

Crowley stood. He eyes had returned to their normal dark brown, but they still were alight with barely contained glee. “Perfect luv, I’ll pick you Saturday at 6:00pm sharp. Oh and no weapons. Leave the guns, holy water, and silver at home. I am your date and I will take care of you. That includes protecting you.” Crowley could see Dean coming out of the hospital room, the door open and Sam looking straight at him from his hospital bed. He could not help giving the Winchesters something to bitch about, so he leaned over Bobby and kissed him! It was just a soft little peck, nothing drawn out, the perfect way to finish asking a person out. Then he disappeared.

 “What the Hell Bobby!” Dean bellowed from down the hall. “I mean what the actual Hell!” The shorter Winchester barreled down the hall towards the older man. Staff and patients turned and stared at the scene he was creating.  Bobby stood and met him in the middle of the hall.

“Damm it boy, calm down will you.” Bobby grabbed Dean by the arm and dragged him back to Sam’s room. The other Winchester was trying to get off the bed, but having half his body wrapped in a cast made it difficult.

“What was that Bobby?” Sam asked in a slightly calmer voice.

“That was nothing. Crowley just dropped by to let me know how to pay him back for saving our bacon.”

“Did you sell your soul again?” Dean accused him, his voice angry. Bobby could hear the underlining of fear and helplessness laced through his voice.

“NO. How stupid do you think I am? Crowley spent an evening helping me get what I wanted so next Saturday I have to return the favor. That’s all.”

“That’s all, huh. So what does Crowley want?” Dean asked, still suspicious but less fearful. Maybe they would get out of this mess in one piece.

“A break from Hell. We will go out, grab some food, talk, that kind of thing. Just like getting rid of the imps was no big deal to him, this will be no big deal for me. I mean I have to be nice, which sucks balls, but I can manage,” Bobby reasoned.

Dean nodded. The explanation soothed his worry, although it did not explain why the demon kissed the older hunter. But Crowley loved to mess them.  He reached down and started to help his brother off the bed when Sam spoke:

“That sounds like a date”.  Dean dropped his brother and spun around looking at Bobby in horror.

“Is that why he kissed you?” Dean demanded, his voice hoarse. Bobby ran his hands over his face and took a deep breath. He leaned down and helped Sam stand. Once the young man was steady on his feet, he turned and grabbed both the boys’ duffels and slung them over his shoulder. He met both their gazes and matched them with a steely glare.

“Yeah, it’s a date. So what? We are not dead. Imps are not over running the University of Minnesota. I don’t have to screw over an innocent or get my ass handed to me delivering some all powerful MacGuffin to the freaking king of hell! All I have to do is make nice for a Saturday night. In my book that is a win. You probably can’t tell it is a win because they happen so rarely for us. So let me help you out. You say ‘Lucky break Bobby,’ or ‘that sounds good,’ or hell even ‘can we get burgers tonight’. You don’t through a hissy fit and you don’t freak out, because frankly this isn’t even about you. Got it?”

Both the boys were suitably cowed, dropped their gaze and stopped posturizing.

“Lucky break, Bobby,” Sam responded.

“Can we get Jucy Lucy before blow town?” asked Dean. Bobby nodded and they headed out.


	2. All Gussied Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, So I know this chapter is super short but I wanted to get something up tonight. It is basically half the chapter I had planned to write. I hope you like it. Oh and this is a kind of slow burn story, no sex until the last few chapters. But since it is a short story I hope you stick around. As always your comments and kudos mean the world to me. Thanks so much for reading.

**Chapter 2 – All Gussied Up**

  
The rest of Monday passed pretty uneventfully. It only took the hunters about four hours to make it back to Sioux Falls, although it did take a while before Bobby could convince Dean to let the older man drive. The medication Dean was taking made his driving more dangerous than normal. Eventually Dean surrendered to Bobby and rode shotgun. Sam sprawled in the backseat; the Spica cast immobilized his body from hips to his left wrist and made everything awkward. They did stop at Matt’s Bar to get Dean his burger stuffed with molten cheddar, otherwise known as a Jucy Lucy. Sam bitched that Matt’s did not serve salads so he was stuck with a chicken sandwich. The stop off at the dive bar pushed their return back to about 7:00 PM. The awkward angle Sam’s arm was propped up at made navigating the stairs to the guest rooms dangerous. Bobby set up the cot he had used when he was wheelchair bound in the library. Dean tried to help but Bobby made him sit his ass down as the green eyed man was on light duty and warned not to pull the stiches at his side. By 8 o’clock Bobby had both boys in bed and was sitting at his desk with a fifth of rotgut answering messages from hunters who still needed help.  
Tuesday morning found Bobby cooking a mountain of bacon, eggs and toast. The only fruit he had in the house was a jar of peaches his neighbor Marcy gave him. The old man sighed and realized he would have to make a trip to the store soon. Just as he was pulling the bacon off the stove top he heard a crash in the library.

  
“Balls,” the old hunter growled under his breath as he headed into the other room. He found Dean trying to dress his brother.  
“Hiya Bobby,” the green eyed man smiled up at him, his brother was tangled in a sheet and laying half on top of Dean. Both men were sprawled on the floor and laughing. Dean was trying to get a shirt over Sam’s Spica cast, but had resorted to cutting an opening on the left side.

  
Bobby couldn’t help laughing at his idjits. It had been a while since he last had laughed. The Winchesters were a hot mess but they were his mess.  
“Breakfast is ready if you two idjits can make it off the floor,” Bobby informed them.  
Soon the three sat the kitchen table sipping black coffee and shoveling food into their maws. Kenny Rogers played faintly over the radio as Bobby started a mental list of all thing tasks he needed to take care of today. Hopefully Dean could bath his brother as Bobby was too old for that shit. The sound of chewing was broken by the shrill ring of the FBI phone. Balls, Bobby thought, it was only 9:15 AM on the east coast. He swallowed his bacon and grabbed phone.  
“Agent Willis speaking,” Bobby answered in his best FBI voice. The rest of his day was spent answering phones, feeding Winchesters and looking up lore for hunters too stupid to live. It kept him to distracted to even think about Saturday.  
Meanwhile in Hell, a tall brunette was reading a letter in the oppressive office of the King of Hell. Bella Talbot had spent much less time on the rack than most souls in Hell, but only because she could make herself useful to it’s ruler. At the moment she wished she had spent more time getting to know a surly hunter.

  
_Dear Pet,_  
 _In preparation for our date I want you to insert the pretty bauble inside yourself about an hour prior to me picking you up. It might seem intimating, but this is for your own comfort. I told you that I take care of my dates and this is just the start. Don’t worry darling, it won’t hurt. Make sure to use plenty of the enclosed lube, bend forward and very slowly slide it in. The key is plenty of lube and go slow. I look forward to seeing you all gussied up._  
 _Crowley_

  
“You can’t send this,” Bella raises her eyes from the paper and looks across the heavy oak desk at her king in the red wing back chair. Crowley raised one eyebrow at her and set her with his predatory gaze.  
“Can’t?” he fairly purred.

  
Bella swallowed hard. Working for Crowley was always a tightrope act. She had to show the proper respect, without being a sycophant and tell Crowley what he needed to know, which was not always what he wanted to hear.

  
“Bobby Singer has two weaknesses,” she stated in a calm voice.

  
“Yes I have met Moose and Squirrel,” Crowley snarked.

  
Bella smiled. “Dean and Sam are just products of Bobby’s first weakness, kindness. Bobby fixes broken things, shows mercy to those who deserve it and compassion for those who need it. He adopted Abercrombie and Fitch because they are two of the most broken boys I have ever seen. “

  
“You would think that a hunter being kind would be a death sentence, but I at least, couldn’t snow him. His intuition and cunning let him cut through all the lies and see the truth of people. The only way I know how to exploit his kindness is to bare my soul, and trust me, that is not something you want to do,” Bella took a deep breath, as Crowley had not blown her up yet she continued.  
“Singer’s other weakness his sense of honor. If he owes you he pays you back. He keeps his deals, his word is solid and you can trust what he says. Of course if you break faith with him first he will turn all that cunning against you, and well you know how that ends.”

  
Crowley narrowed his eyes at the tattered soul in front of him. She had been a beautiful woman in life and the demon had been impressed when she worked for Lilith. But now she was just another soul in hell and the king did not allow jibes at his failings. Lucky for Bella she was providing good insight so Crowley didn’t send her back to the rack just yet.

  
“Bobby owes me. It was only a verbal deal, but his sense of honor will compel him to follow through. Seems like I am using this weakness just fine,” Crowley cut back, harshly. His eyes glowed red with displeasure.  
Bella kept her head high and didn’t back down. “Except you want more than just a night, and if the most paranoid man in the world realized that, he would throw out your deal and turn his cunning mind towards screwing you royally.”  
“Why would he suspect I am looking for anything more than one night of fun?”

  
“You are offering help. You would only do that if you are trying to build a rapport. Not that it matters, Bobby Singer won’t take help from people who love him or people who owe him. Why would he take help from the demon who owns him?”  
“Because I can help him,” Crowley sighed. “But you’re right, that bloody stupid pillock won’t accept something nice. Not when he can do something hard. Lucky I’m versatile. If I can’t play nice, I can be dirty,” Crowley said as a Cheshire leer spread across his face.

  
Wednesday morning Dean and Sam staggered into the kitchen only to find Bobby rummaging around looking for anything to eat. The old man popped his head up.

  
“Our options are breakfast stew or microwave burritos,” Bobby offered. Both younger men groaned.

  
“If we man the phones this morning do you think you could run to the store today?” Sam asked. He was feeling a tad guilty for imposing on Bobby like this, but what is family for if not to use and abuse.

  
Bobby grunted. “Yeah, just don’t destroy my house while I am gone. Remember I just got you both put back together, don’t go breaking yourselves again.”

  
Bobby had only been gone for about half an hour when Dean heard the rumble of a van approaching. He opened the front door just as the driver was about to knock. The man let out a startled gasp.

  
“Woah dude you scared me” the UPS driver said.

  
Dean looked past the driver at the big brown van than back to the guy in uniform. He had a clipboard and black garment bag. Everything looked legit, but that didn’t stop Dean from puffing his chest and staring down the stranger.  
The delivery guy visibly wilts at Dean’s glare. It’s bad enough that this place looks like a serial killer lives here, but the glare the bluff blond is shooting him makes him fear for his life. “Uhh yeah well I have a delivery for a Robert Singer.”  
Dean grabs the clipboard and signs. The driver thrusts the garment bag at him and then scurries back to his van. Dean watches stone face until the van speeds out of the yard. A grin breaks across his face.  
“Yo Sammy, Bobby got a present!” he shouts as he comes back to the room. Sam looks up from the dusty tome he had been reading.  
“What is it?” the younger man asks. He moves over to Dean and watches his brother open the bag. A beautiful charcoal grey suit is revealed. A plastic bag containing a blue silk tie is wrapped around the hanger. Dean carefully lays the suit on the couch. It is the nicest suit he has ever seen and somehow he knows it will fit Bobby perfectly. At the bottom of the bag are two smaller bags. One bag contains a pair of soft leather loafers that Sam just knows cost more than the impala. The other bag is much smaller, silk and has a note attached to the outside.

  
_Moose and Squirrel do not open_

  
“Crowley,” Sam growls. He reaches for the little bag. Dean snags it away.

  
“Wait, are you sure we should be opening it?” Dean, the unlikely voice of reason asks.

  
“What, of course man. Crowley is messing with Bobby and you know how Bobby is. He made a deal and he will keep it. It doesn’t matter that Crowley is a demon or that he will screw Bobby over, the man always pays his debts. And he is only in the mess because of us. If we had waited and done the research like Bobby wanted, we would not have almost died in a frat house! Bobby always has our back, now we have to have his.”

  
Dean grinned. He loved it when Sammy got all passionate. Dean opened the bag and let the contents spill out onto the couch. Dean’s eyes bugged out and Sam cursed.

  
Bobby got home about 45 minutes later. Like all men he would rather overload himself with bags instead of making two trips. He set all the groceries on the kitchen counter.

  
“No I don’t need a hand,” he groused. “Where are you boys!” he hollered.

  
“Library” came the response.

  
Bobby sighed, put the frozen food away before the ice cream melted and walked to the next room. The first thing he saw was the charcoal suit and empty garment bag.

  
“Where did all this come from?’ Bobby asked.

  
It was Dean who answered as he tossed Bobby the smallest bag. “Crowley.”

  
Bobby opened the bag and turned it over into his hand. A heavy, gold, round-ended cone with a tapered waist and a flared base spilled into his hand, along with a small vial and a crisp note.

  
“What the hell is this?” the baffled hunter asked.

  
Sam scoffed and looked away, while Dean met Bobby’s eyes. “It’s a butt plug. Your boyfriend expects you to wear it for your date,” Dean responded angrily.

  
Bobby looked down at the note in shock. Damm it Crowley, can you keep anything private. He thumbed open the note, the paper was heavy, expensive and the writing was bold against the stark white.

  
_I expect you to be wearing this for our date. Insert the plug an hour beforehand._   
_Crowley_

  
Bobby closed his eyes and sighed deep. _Balls_. He crossed the room and grabbed his bottle of rotgut off the desk. He took a long swig before looking at the vial. Water based personal lubricant. Bobby’s cheeks flushed red.

  
“Balls.” Bobby fell back into his chair. It was only 10 in the morning and the best thing he could think to do was get sloshed. What the hell did Crowley have in mind for this date?

  
“Did you know?” Sam asked.

  
“Know what? That the bastard would be sending me kinky shit? No, Sam, I didn’t know,” the older man snarled. If only the floor would open up and swallow him whole then all his problems would be solved.

  
“Did you know he wanted sex?” Sam asked, his voice calm and understanding. Bobby shot him a death glare. How dare that boy use his witness questioning voice on him. But Sam gave him the puppy dog look and Bobby rolled his eyes.

  
“Yeah I knew. He said he expected to get lucky and I agreed to it. Didn’t seem like that big of a deal.” Bobby couldn’t help but stare at the gold plug. It had a sparkly red stone set in the base. Of course the King of Hell would pick something is gaudy.

  
“Well this is kind of a good sign, if you think about it,” Sam reasoned.

  
Dean exploded at this. “How? How can that,” he pointed an accusing finger at the sparkly plug “possibly be a good thing?!?”

  
Bobby perked up at this. Yeah how could this be good, he thought.

  
Sam blushed. “Well anal sex can be uncomfortable if not done correctly, right? So at least we know he is planning on lube and proper prep. It might not be so bad.”

  
Prep? What the hell was prep? What exactly had Bobby gotten himself into? Suddenly he stood up. “I can’t…. I know your trying to help. I made a deal and I intend to honor it, but I just can’t talk to you.” With that he practically ran out to the yard to bang on some old wrecks. Shortly after his cowardly escape he heard the impala roar out of the yard and down the road. Bobby kept hiding.

  
When Sam started talking about research Dean bolted. Bobby had looked so… confused. That scared Dean as he was so used to seeing the older man in control. If Dean didn’t know what to do he turned to Bobby. Now the older man need help and Dean was not going to let him down. So while Sam was hitting the books or whatever Dean resolved to do some practical research.

  
It wasn’t long until Dean was cruising downtown Sioux Falls. He pulled into Annabelle’s Adult Super Center. The chick at the counter checked his ID and Dean headed straight for the magazine wall picking up his copy of Busty Asians. He then turned around and tried to look for something different. After browsing for a few minutes he turned to the girl at the checkout.

  
“Hey, I was wondering if you can help me find something?” he asked with the patented Dean Winchester smile. The girl looked right through him.

  
“What are you looking for?” she responded coldly. Probably use to getting hit on by pervs.

  
“Umm I don’t really know. Gay stuff?” Dean stammered. The girl looked pointedly at the magazine.

  
“Yeah we don’t really carry that kind of stuff. Do you want your skin rag or not?”

  
Dean nodded and paid for the magazine. Shit this might be harder than he thought. Back inside Baby Dean looked up the other sex shop in town, Romantix. When he walked in he was pleasantly surprised that the shop was bigger than Annabelles. The woman working there was a little older and heavy set. She greeted Dean in a friendly manner and asked if she could help him. Dean smiled in relief, happy not to get yelled at.

  
“Yeah, I am looking for gay stuff.” The woman blinked. Perhaps gay stuff was a little vague Dean thought. But the woman led him over to a small section in the back corner. There were magazines and videos, anal plugs and beads. Everything was very pornish and didn’t look too helpful. Dean couldn’t help but hear Sammy telling him that porn was not real life. Nothing here seemed like it would help Bobby.

  
“Thanks,” Dean said, “but I think I am looking for something more educational?” The woman smiled kindly. “Sorry honey, we don’t have a great selection. Have you tried down by the college?” Dean thanked her again and headed out.

  
His phone turned out no new results to his search and is desperation Dean just started cruising down by the university. Suddenly he slammed on the brakes. There in front of him were rainbow flags! He quickly parallel parked his baby and headed over to the row of shops sporting big rainbow flags. One was a café, the next was a bar (still closed) but the third was some kind of bookstore or something. Dean headed in.  
The clerk looked up from his magazine as the bell chimed. He had blue, red and green hair and both his nose and lip were pierced. He gave Dean a once over and suddenly the hunter felt self-concise in his flannel, dungarees and boots. The store front of the store had shelfs and shelfs of books. Dean could see cases of dvds and perhaps other stuff farther in.

  
“Hey, so do you carry sex stuff?” Dean asks.

  
The clerk rolls his eyes. “What do you mean ‘sex stuff’?” he responds in his sassiest voice.

  
“I don’t know dude,” Dean responds in exasperation. Normally people are nice to him, his smile and charm open doors, but today he seems to put off every person he talks to. “My, ah, uncle is going to have to have the gay sex I don’t know what to do.”  
The clerk steps forward from the counter and snaps at Dean. “How about you do nothing. The last thing your poor uncle needs is for to you hit him with your homophobic bullshit. Why don’t you do everyone a favor and crawl back to the stone age.”  
This was it, the proverbial straw to break the donkey’s back. Or in the case of Dean Winchester the ass’ back. A crap week, bombshell of a morning and getting the run around all day had used up the hunter’s limited supply of people skills.  
“I don’t need your bullshit. I came here desperate for help and all I am getting is you unloading your baggage on me! I am not homophobic. If Bobby said he and Garth were bumping uglys, then I would have finally solved the mystery of why that guy is still alive. If he said that he and Rufus were getting married, then Sammy and I would throw on the monkey suits and stand beside him. But that is not what is happening here. Rufus is dead and Bobby is going to fuck Crowley, the slimiest bastard I have ever known! And, and he doesn’t even want to do it. It’s not like he just woke and said hey I think I will try demon dick today! Oh no of course not, because Bobby never does anything for himself. No he is going to fuck this giant dick because he owes Crowley. And why does he owe Crowley, because of Sammy and me of course! And it is not just some date he wants because he is sending Bobby butt plugs and lube. So I have been all over hickville looking for some information about gay sex, because there is no way I am trusting Bobby’s ass to that dick!” When Dean finished his tirade his breathing was heavy and his eyes burned bright.

  
The clerk blinked as the buff man finished his tangent. Although the green eyed man was as intimidating as fuck, the clerk didn’t feel like he was about to get punched. Instead he felt like a desperate man’s last hope. So he cleared his throat and responded:  
“Oh that kind of sex stuff. Yes we have exactly what you need.” He walked over to a shelf and pulled out a DVD. Dean smiled sheepishly back at the clerk.

  
“This is an instructional DVD all about anal sex for beginners. It covers everything you need to know about fingering yourself, topping and bottoming. Its hopeless for actually jerking off to, but very clear as it explains the mechanics. Second thing your uncle needs is this.” The clerk to the back of the store and grabs a bottle of Anal Blu Desensitize Lube.

  
“Lube and going slow are the keys to anal sex. This stuff will help relax the anal wall, dull any pay and lubricate the passage for ease and comfort. Anal sex should not hurt. If it does your uncle needs to tell this Crowley dude. If he is sending over lube and butt plugs than he must realize this.”

  
Dean smiled gratefully at the clerk. “Thanks so much dude, you are a real life saver.” The clerk smiled back as Dean paid and headed home.

  
Dean picked up fried chicken and headed back to the house. He arrived a little after 2:00pm and called out to the yard for Bobby to come in. He headed into the house and started making plates. Bobby came in a few minutes later and washed his hands. Dean handed him a beer and plate, grabbed two more beers, the shopping bag and plates for himself and Sam. Together he and Bobby made their way into the living room. Dean set both the plates down on the coffee table. He stood up by the TV.  
“Ronda Hurley made me try on her panties, and I liked it.” Dean announced. “Everyone has done kinky shit and everyone has had sex for the wrong reasons. It’s not a big deal. What is a big deal is that I spent the day driving around to sex shops.” Dean ignored Bobby and Sam’s shocked faces and pulled out the bottle of lube, tossing it to the older hunter. “This lube makes anal feel good. Use it.” He pulled out the dvd next. “This is an instructional video that will teach us all about anal sex. We are all going to watch it and learn.” Dean inserted the DVD while the other two men sat there completely shocked.

  
“Doesn’t this break the no watching porn with other guys rule?” Sam asked.

  
Dean grinned. “No dude, this is instructional not spank bank.” Dean turned and pressed play, noting that Bobby still had not said anything. Hopefully this helped, because Dean had nothing else to give.


	3. Chapter 2 Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets his chance to be as awkward as his brother, Crowley is literally counting down the days and Bobby does research. Oh and smut. That no one asked for.

Crowley was positively giddy. Two days until his big date. Yes, he was literally counting down the days like a teenage girl. An evil, possessive, slightly sadistic teenage girl. He has been able to keep his disinterested mask intact during court but here in his inner sanctum he could not keep the feral grin off his face.  Two days, why had he set the date so far in advance? Oh, that’s right he wanted the wounds on Bobby’s back to be healed enough for him to pound the hunter into his mattress.  Ah, Bobby Singer will never have it as good as Crowley was going to treat him. The demon king hardened just thinking about it.

 

Guthrie and Bella’s bickering brought Crowley back to the present. He sighed. Guthrie was supposed to be helping him get Hell tided up for his night off and Bella was supposed to be finalizing the details of the date.

 

“The man is a redneck. Any place with cloth napkins will impress him.” Guthrie stated in his clipped voice.

 

Bella rolled her eyes. “Redneck, yes, but he is also educated and clever. He knows his artifacts and antiquities, speaks more languages than I knew existed, is well traveled, and recites poetry.”

 

Yes his pet could do all those things as so much more. What was it the man said? “I can kill werewolves, fix a pinto and bake cornbread.” Crowley had never had cornbread before. He pictured Bobby in his kitchen wearing nothing but a kiss the cook apron and a large, sparkly butt plug. When Bobby would bend over to slide the bread into the oven, his buttocks would open up and reveal the shining gem. Meat suits come and meat suits go. Physical appearance meant little to the demon, he wanted Bobby for his cunning mind, clever tongue and unbreakable will. Death, himself, had tried to break the old hunter, but the man kept going forward. No matter how much pain he suffered, nothing could kill his kindness. That kindness was unique in the world. It was not sugary sweet, it was burnt and bitter, but still soothed like a balm. Crowley wanted Bobby because he was awesome. That did not mean he couldn’t appreciate the fleshy shell that awesomeness was housed in.

 

Singer was just so _big_. He had a good three inches on Crowley’s current meat suit, but it was more than just height. His shoulders were broad and his chest barreled. His arms were still muscular, despite his age, and his hands were large with thick, blunt fingers. Fingers that would feel so good tracing Crowley’s body. His dark blue eyes shone so bright when he was thinking. Which was most of the time. And his lips. Gods those lips were made for sucking cock. To have such a strong, both physically and mentally, man on his knees, eagerly taking in Crowley. That, that would be nothing short of spectacular.

 

In another life Robert Singer would have been a clan Laird, or an advisor to kings. He would have been honored as a warrior, sage and tactician. Men would send their sons to appearance to him and daughters to seduce him. And still Crowley would take him. To own a man like that was the fantasy. Crowley wanted to drag his fingers across Bobby’s thighs. Pinch and bite at his nipples. Were they sensitive? Would he moan? He wanted to knock off the trucker cap and run his fingers through the hunters thinning hair. Kiss and nip his way from chin down to neck and then collar bone. Leaving a trail of marks so that everyone knew who this man belonged two. Ballocks, Crowley was rock hard and straining in his trousers. He was brought back to reality by the bickering between Bella and Guthrie

 

“Well he has been to Japan. I traded him cypress branch from Crete for a set of hina dolls he said he picked up there on a job” Bella snapped.

 

“Japan? I know nothing about Japan.” Crowley injected. Both Bella and Guthrie started at being addressed.

 

“Well I know he speaks the language as he translated a document for me once,” Bella offered.

 

“Do we know anything about what he would like in that country? I admit Hell does not have many in roads to the islands in the east.” Crowley asked.

 

At this Guthrie spoke up. “To tempt a man from Tokyo offer shoes, Kyoto, fashion, while the man from Osaka will sell his soul for food and booze.

 

 Crowley grinned, his eyes glowed red. “Osaka it is.”

 

Friday afternoon found Bobby making sandwiches for lunch. Dean was outside working on his Baby, with the promise to take it easy. Sam came lumbering into the kitchen and Bobby suppressed a groan. He had been trying to avoid the younger Winchester since Tuesday. After Dean’s heavy handed and oh so awkward attempt to help, the last think Bobby wanted to do was have a heart to heart with a golden retriever.

 

Sam finally had his prey cornered. He knew he would only get a few words out before Bobby would stop him. He had to hook him first and that meant no beating around the bush or asking questions. He took a deep breath.

 

“I had an affair with one my professors my first year at Stanford.” Sam spit out, as quickly as he could. Bobby looked up from the sandwiches and caught the younger man’s eyes. Sam plunged ahead.

 

“She was in her mind forties, good looking and at the top of her profession. She only taught freshman once every four years and really her grad student did most of the work. I caught her after class one day and asked to talk about her book. I wanted her to mentor me. She invited me to dinner at her place to discuss it. I remember she gave me a glass of red wine and I didn’t know what to do. I had only ever shot whisky before, did I down it quickly or sip it slowly? I wanted to impress her. I felt like such a fraud you know? I could field strip a berretta in the dark, spot a ghost and kill a werewolf. I didn’t know how to interact with people like her though. I knew I was smart but so was everyone else at Stafford. What made me special?

 

“She let me know fairly quickly that being over six foot tall and ripped made me special. I didn’t need to sleep with her for a better grade, I was already getting an A. She made it clear that her grad student graded all the papers and that whatever happened that night would not affect her classroom. It if we had a relationship she mentor me, introduce me to the right people and help me navigate the system.

 

“I was surprised. I thought all educated people were like you. You help people and share your knowledge because it’s the right thing to do. How many new hunters made it past their first year because someone passed them your number?”

 

Bobby blushed something fierce but said nothing.

 

“I expected that my teachers would want to teach me. But she had 500 students and I was only a freshman. So I did it. I mean, she was an attractive woman, and I like sex. What was the big deal? She did everything she said she would. Helped me get more scholarships and told me what classes to take. I always had the option to say no. If I was busy I would tell her that. But the more available I was for her, the more available she was for me. We never did anything sexual that I didn’t want to. To be honest she taught me a lot in that regard and I was grateful.

 

“When Jess and I started to get serious, I broke it off with her. She was kind and still helped me out years later. Her letter of recommendation helped me get into law school. My point is that we have all different kind of reasons to have sex and that is fine. As long as you have the option to say no.

 

“So Bobby, I want to make sure you know that you can say no to Crowley. We will figure out something else. No one should ever be forced into sex with someone else. Dean and I can’t let you sacrifice yourself.” Sam finished and looked at Bobby with his patented puppy eyes.  

 

_Now would be a perfect time for the ground to swallow him whole_ , Bobby thought. But of course he remained on solid ground. Sam played this game so well. Opening up and sharing something about his past guaranteed that Bobby couldn’t just shove his way past. Instead he was stuck talking to the boy. About sex. Butt sex. With a demon.

 

“Here is the thing that you and Dean don’t understand. Crowley helps me. He gave me back my legs when he didn’t have to. He saved the three of us when I had no way to compel him. So, I might not be looking forward to … _that_. But if I do this, he is more likely to help next time. I am that desperate. In this world, having someone you can call on is pretty important.”

 

“But Bobby this is Crowley! He can’t be trusted. Look at the stunt he pulled with your soul. He does not play straight.”

 

Bobby laughed, a little bitterly. “I know this comes from love, boy, but I can’t help but be a little insulted. How little credit you give me. I know Crowley will try to pull a fast one and I have it covered. Have a little faith in an old man. Now we finished with the afterschool special?”

 

Sam nodded.  

 

“Good, go call your brother for lunch.”

 

The next day was busy for Bobby. He got a call from Rudy who was in over his head and needed a hand. He was only a few hours out, so Bobby elected to go. Dean demanded to come with but seeing how Sam still could not get dressed on his own and Dean was still in danger of splitting his pastiches and spilling his insides all out, Bobby left while the younger hunter was putting on his shoes. Sure it was a dick move, but with Winchesters you did what you had to.

 

By the time Bobby got home that night, both boys were passed out. Booze and pills were never a good mix and Sam always seems to forget what he took. The old man through a blanket over Dean on the couch and checked on Sam. The moose was sprawled out on the cot and snoring softly. Bobby’s whole body ached as he made his way up stairs. After a hot shower he dressed and climbed into bed.

Bobby tossed and turned for a bit. Tomorrow he was going out with Crowley. Not only going out, but he was going to have sex. Damm, had it really been over a year since he had sex last? Pamela, shit. Why was it all the women he cared about ended up dead? At least a demon is less likely to get killed. And if he did bite it, would Bobby even care? Maybe, maybe not. Bobby’s feelings were complicated on the matter. One thing he was very clear on was his dislike of Crowley popping his cherry.

 

Bobby thought back over the DVD Dean had made them watch. Balls, that had been awkward, but it also made him feel less vulnerable. Sure Crowley still had the experience and power, but at least Bobby was no longer flying blind. Research always calmed his nerves and centered him. The more he know the more he could plan, the more he planned the more his paranoia helped him instead of hindering. One thing he still didn’t know is how this anal play would going to make him _feel_.

 

Only one thing for it Bobby figured. He shimmied out of pajama bottoms and laid half naked on his bed. His hand traced down his torso and fingered through his treasure trail. He petted the tuff of hair there and the line between his thigh and groin. It felt nice just to touch, relaxing and all. His cock woke up and started to harden. Bobby ghosted over his balls, causing his cock to twitch. With his other hand he reached over and grabbed the bottle of lube. He tucked it to his side to warm it up. His other hand kept dancing feather light touches over his balls, groin and cock. He dribbled a little of the Anal Blu Desensitizing Lubricant on his fingers and slid his hand down between his legs.

 

It was hard to reach between his ass, so Bobby bent his knees and spread his legs wide. His feet tucked against the backs of his thighs. His middle finger glided over the inside of his ass cheeks, flicking against his rosebud. He rubbed the thick cream around the rim of his hole and groaned. His cock was rock hard and leaking. With his other hand Bobby slowly stroked it up and down. He let out a ragged breath and licked his lips. His thick middle finger kept dancing at the rim, dipping in and out with shallow flicks. He was finally relaxing; everything started to intensify with the finger rubbing against his ass and his hand stroking his cock. He slowly picked up the pace on his cock and glided his finger deeper into his tight hole.

 

_Balls_ his hole was tight. His hungry ass was swallowing his finger so greedily, the nail raking along the soft, tightly gripping hole. He could only get in up to his second knuckle. He couldn’t reach farther at this angle, although his ass could have taken it. He thought about adding a second finger, but Hell he was already so tight around the one. He was jackhammering his cock now, his hips thrusting madly into the air. He arched his back and came hard, his ass clenching around his finger with so much pressure he couldn’t remove it. He laid like that for a few minutes, completely spent. Finally he withdrew the thick finger from his ass, still feeling it twitching slightly around the hard intruder, he got up and wiped the cum off his chest. He couldn’t believe how far he had shot his load. He through on some shorts and staggered into the bathroom to wash up. Clean, he fell back into the soft bedding and quickly fell asleep, completely spent.


	4. Chapter Three – Anticipation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so late and rather short. I was sick over the weekend. I will make it up to you in the next chapter, I promise!

Crowley was livid. He had been patient all week long, not blowing up demons, paying attention during court and ensuring no coups would dethrone him. All that was left for the day was court and then dressing for his date. Everything should be ready by now! But apparently Bella had failed to finalize any plans for the second part of the date. Guthrie tried to not keep the smug tone out of his voice as he reported on Bella’s incompetence, not wanting to attract any of the demon kings irk.

 

Crowley pined Bella with his glowing red stare. “How dare you shirk your responsibilities? If you think your time on the rack was painful before, you have no understanding of the torcher I am going to personally inflict on you tomorrow! In the mean time I will have my best start work on you now!” the short demon shouted.

 

“Paris is cliché!” Bella steely responded. Showing fear in Hell never serves one well.

 

Guthrie turned on her. “Cliché? Paris is one of the finest cities in the world, the Louvre contains some of the greatest works humans have ever created and the food will cause even your plaid covered hunter to set down his rotgut. Or is he such a world traveler that Paris has been overdone?” The stately demon’s voice fair dripped with sarcasm.

 

Bella stared directly at Crowley as she addressed Guthrie’s attack. “I don’t know if Bobby has been to Paris before, we were not that close. I do know that every movie, every TV. show, book and song that wants to go off to someplace romantic heads to Paris. I am not saying that Bobby would not love to visit that city and could not fill days there. But it won’t impress him for the date. You will have blown your load in Osaka, become pedestrian in Paris and have unimpressive sex in his Sioux Falls. Your morning will be an awkward parting and a walk of shame.” Her voice did not falter as she ripped the date Guthrie had planned to shreds.

 

“If you want to impress Bobby and keep him on his toes, think outside the box. I can have the perfect night in Dubai, Rio or Mumbai ready in 15 minutes if you give me the go ahead.” Bella was gambling her eternity on impressing Crowley, but she was a firm believer in go big or go home.

Crowley stared at her for a few moments, the wheels in his cunning mind turning quickly. Bella held her dead breath as she waited. Finally her king nodded his head.

“You are right about Paris, but you are over reaching with Dubai and such. The cities would overwhelm the date. You have until court is out to put together the prefect night. Stay in Europe, major city, art and late supper. Awe, not flummoxed is the goal of the night. Allow me to blow Mr. Singers socks off, as it were. Guthrie, with me. Oh and Bella, don’t disappoint me.” And with that Crowley sauntered off, Guthrie following behind.

 

Left alone in the office, Bella finally let out breath and slumped to the floor. Well that could have been worse.

 

            A crash started Bobby as he was fixing breakfast. Turning the bacon to low he went to investigate. Sam was lying on the floor of the downstairs bathroom, water dripping from his hair.

 

            “Hiya Bobby.” Sam said sheepish. Bobby signed as he bent down to haul the young man up. At least he had gotten his boxers on by himself.

 

            “Just stand still will ya,” Bobby groused as he pulled up Sam’s pants for him, only to be met with the Sam Winchester puppy dog eyes, patent pending.

 

            “I can’t believe you and Dean have to help me dress still,” Sam said.

 

            “Don’t worry about it kid. It could have been worse.”

 

            “I know. I just keep messing up and you keep on having to put me back together,” the self-deprecation was thick in Sam’s voice.

 

            Bobby signed and looked up into Sam’s hazel eyes. “You mess up no more than anyone else. And if your messes seem larger, that is only because so much more is put on you than most people.” Bobby helped Sam with his shirt. “You are here for me and your brother too, this is what family does.”

 

            Sam smiled back at him. “I know that Bobby. I just want you to know that I am grateful; for the help, for the mad love, for not hating me. You know Dean’s no chick flick rule, you mean the world to us.

 

            “Well I am not a fan of this touchy feely crap either boy so let’s get you to breakfast.” As they headed back to the kitchen Bobby paused and looked at Sam real quick. “You know that there is nothing you could ever do that would make me stop loving you right?”

 

            Before Sam could respond, Dean came clopping down the stairs, the smell of bacon carrying him to the kitchen, and the moment was lost. The rest of the day was filled with answering calls, research and making sure that Sam and Dean could hold down the fort tonight. Before Bobby knew it, it was time to get ready for his date.

 

            The old hunter showered, trimmed and combed his hair back. The tweezers were taken to his ears, nose and brows next. He slapped on the Old Spice and put on his undershirt and boxers before he headed to his room. Closing the door behind him, Bobby stared at his bed. He should probably put that thing in before getting dressed, he thought with a heavy heart. Masturbating last night had been one thing, but actually inserting a foreign object into his body was a line he was not sure he could cross. The video had said that it was important to stretch his ass with progressively larger items prior to actually fucking. That was the sticking point wasn’t it.

 

            Despite what he told Sam and Dean, Bobby was not at all sure about sex with Crowley. Up until this point he had only ever had sex with women he respected and cared about. They might not all been loves of his life, but they were people he was happy to spend time with and proud to die with. He was never much for one night stands and any bar pick up he did was when he felt a real connection. He would be just as happy to spend the night talking to the woman as making love.

 

            Crowley was something else entirely. Bobby couldn’t honestly say he liked the demon, but had fought alongside him and did enjoy the battle of wits that made up most of their conversations. It wasn’t the same as shooting the shit with his boys or killing a bottle with Rufus had been, but there were worse ways to spend the night than squabbling with the well-dressed demon. Suddenly Bobby laughed.

 

            He didn’t do angst and all this wool gathering didn’t matter. Crowley wanted this as payback for a favor, but Bobby had the choice to go along with it or not. Granted a pissed off Crowley was not his favorite thing in the world, but it was something he knew and had handled before. He had options. None of them were very good, but they existed. Bobby made his choice as he grabbed the lube and plug and slide his boxers off. Besides, just because he agreed to have sex with Crowley didn’t mean he had to give the prig the satisfaction of seeing Bobby cum. He smiled evilly, wouldn’t that just piss in the demon’s Wheaties.

 

            Bobby laid down on his bed and bent both his knees. He squeezed a generous amount of desensitize lube on his finger and started working it around his hole, warming the plug in his other hand. A groan escaped his lips as his finger pushed against the ring. He fingered himself for a minute, making his cock jump to attention. Once his ass felt good and numb he pulled his finger out and slowly slid the plug in. Slowly, that was the key advice from the DVD. Well that and plenty of lube.

 

            Bobby stood up, pulled up shorts and wiped his hand off on a handkerchief. The plug felt heavy inside him. It didn’t hurt, but he felt a pressure. He wondered what the gaudy thing looked like, sparkling between his cheeks. That felt more ridicules than anything else. Pushing such thoughts aside, Bobby finished getting dressed. He looked in the mirror above his dresser as he straightened out his tie. He had to admit he looked pretty good and the suit fit him perfectly. Wonder if he could talk Crowley into letting him keep it. With that thought, Bobby turned and opened the door to the hall, only to have Sam and Dean nearly fall on top of him.

 

            “What are you two idjits doing?” he growled at them. Neither had the grace to so much blush as they barged past him into this room.

 

            “Damm Bobby, you clean up good,” Sam commented as he set a small stool down next to Bobby’s bed. He stood on it and with his good arm scratched at the devils trap painted above. “Wouldn’t want Crowley to stay any longer than necessary.” he explained.

 

            “Smell good too,” Dean added as he set down on the freshly laundered sheets and grabbed the lube still on the bed. He pulled out a tiny travel bottle, a bunch of condoms and a few pillow packs.

 

            “What the hell is all this crap?” Bobby barked.

 

            Dean didn’t take offense as he started to fill the little bottle with desensitize lube. “I went back to one of the sex stores in town and got you condoms and flavored lube. Figured if you had go down, it should at least not taste like dick.” Bobby’s face was again on flames and the floor was stubbornly, not swallowing him whole. “Don’t know if you can get him to wear a condom but I got flavored ones, ribbed and glow in the dark. Take some of them with you, along with this,” here he held up the little bottle, “on the date and leave the rest in the drawer. That way whatever Crowley has planned you are prepared.”

 

            Bobby ran his hands over his face. This whole week had been an exercise in humiliation. He knew the boys meant well, but there was only so much an old man can take.

 

            “Out! You two are not allowed in my bedroom. Ever!” Bobby shouted at them. Sam carefully stepped off the stool, picked it up and he and Dean headed out. “Don’t forget to make the bed!” Dean shouted.

 

            Bobby rolled his eyes. He changed the sheets and made up the room. He tidied up the few odds and ends and grabbed a couple candles from the linen closet. He looked around and his eyes landed on the photo of Karen sitting on his dresser. He walked over to and picked it up. Not for the first time he wondered what she would think of the man he had become. She had seemed proud of him those short few days she had been back, but still he wondered. His head jerked up as he heard a loud knock from down stairs. Quickly he put the photo in the top drawer of the dresser. There were a lot of things he could take in the world, but Crowley mocking her was not one of them.

 

            Crowley ported directly to the Singer porch. He rocked on his heels for a quick moment, shifted the gifts to one arm and then knocked. The door swung open with force as both Dean and Sam stood there glowering down at him. Crowley smirked and pushed past them, into the room.

 

            “Moose, Squirrel, is Robert ready?” He asked, dryly. Just then he heard foot fall on the stairs and looked up to see Bobby descending the stairs, wearing his new suit. He could not help smiling at how fine the man looked. He crossed the room to meet him at the base of the stairs, being careful to avoid traps.

 

            “Darling, don’t you look devilish handsome tonight.” Now that he was closer, the spicy, woody and altogether manly sent waft to his nose. Crowley couldn’t help the burst of excitement that warmed his cockles.

 

            “Hey” Dean called breaking the moment. Both he and Sam had their chests puffed and were trying to look intimidating. Considering all the demons they had killed, it wasn’t too hard. Crowley turned and looked at them. “You better have him back before dawn, safe and intact.” Dean warned.

 

            “Oh, of course Mr. and Mrs. Singer, I always respect curfew,” Crowley smirked. Bobby had moved to stand closer to the boys so Crowley stepped forward and offered the gifts. “I would have brought chocolates and flowers, but these seemed more you.”

 

            Bobby blinked at the bottle of Evan Williams 23 year old bourbon and codex from a 16th century witch hunter. Bobby barely had a chance to look at them before Dean had snagged the bottle and Sam the book.

 

            “Hey!” Bobby barked. But Dean was heading for glasses and Sam had already started thumbing through the text. Before Bobby could say anything else or retrieve his gifts (he was the one going out after all), Crowley slide his arm around Bobby’s waist, leaned in and in a low voice said:

           

            “Now luv, I realize you are nervous and it is hard to trust your safety to anyone, let alone me, but we did agree no weapons. How about you disarm now and then we can head out?”

 

            Bobby narrowed his eyes at the shorter man; the touch being all too familiar as was the low, kind voice. He would have rather Crowley barked an order than asked like that. Like a suiter or a real date. So with a low growl in the back of throat and a blush on his cheeks he took the silver dagger off his ankle, the holy water and salt from the suit pocket. Finally, from the back of his waist he pulled a Colt 911 with black maple grips he harvested from his own yard.  

 

            “Happy?” the hunter queried.

            “The sharpie too, luv,” the demon responded.

 

            “Since when is a sharpie a weapon?” Bobby challenged as he removed the offending item.

 

            “In your hands, it is probably the most dangerous of all your weapons.” Crowley grinned. “Don’t worry though pet, I have you.” With that he blinked both of them out of South Dakoda.

 

            “Hey Bobby, you want a glass before you leave?” Dean asked the empty room. He turned and looked at his brother. This would be a long night.


	5. Chapter 4 – Kuidaore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and Crowley finally go on their date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. I want to thank the lovely LilyAnson for all her help and being a sounding board for me.

# Chapter 4 – Kuidaore

In an instant Bobby’s living room was gone and in its place was a bustling city. Huge illumined billboards and video screens dwarfed the boardwalk. The crowded sidewalk was lit with the midday sun. Bobby didn’t need to hear the people speak to know where he was.

 

“Japan,” he whispered in awe. As he turned around, he came face to face with a mechanical drum playing clown. Bobby grinned and looked at Crowley.

 

“Kuidaore Taro! We are in Osaka.” Joy is evident on Bobby’s face as Crowley feels particularly pleased. “What are we doing here?” The hunter asks.

 

Now Crowley grins big, as he responds; “Anything you want luv! I admit to never having been on this island before. The Kami keep the local Oni pretty tapped down. We still collect our souls of course, but I admit my presence here is - lacking. That means I have no itinerary, reservations or plans. I don’t even speak the language, but I hear you do. The only thing I bothered to figure out was the money.  So tell me Singer, how do to gents and a black card have fun here?”

 

“There are really only three reasons to come to Osaka, to eat, drink and make money. You will love it here. It was a city founded by merchants. The traditional greeting is ‘Anata ga okane o tsukutte imasu’, ‘Are you making any money?’ And all those hard working salarymen really know how to have a good time. Come on,” with that Bobby led Crowley deeper into the Dontonbori district. There was just so much to see walking down the street. One large store had a twenty foot crab hanging above it; another, a motorized running man. Street vendors hawked their wares and cars honked.  

  

As they passed the open door of a bar, singing carried out onto the street:

_“Tōshi hatsuratsu tatsu ya ima_  
Nekketsu sude ni teki o tsuku  
Jūō no iki takaraka ni  
Muteki no warera zo Hanshin Tigers  
Ō-ō-ō-ō Hanshin Tigers  
Fure-fure-fure-fure”

Bobby’s eyes got as big as saucers. Crowley had never seen the surly hunter this excited.  “The Tigers are playing!” the hunter explained as he nearly dragged Crowley into the bar. Sure enough a baseball game was on the screen. Every patron of the bar held a long balloon in hand. Bobby joined the singing, siding up with a salaryman who handed him two balloons. Bobby handed one to Crowley and began to blow while trying to sing. Crowley raised an eye brow, completely out his depth and started to blow. As the song ended everyone let their balloon fly in unison. Crowley had never seen such a sight and the ease in which Bobby moved through the crowd was unnerving. The hunter raised two fingers and the bartender slid down two beers and a bowl of edamame. He sat down at a booth across from two other men in suits and slide over making room for the demon. Bobby’s Japanese was rapid but accented with his familiar twang. The men laughed over something one of the salarymen had said. Just as Crowley was starting to feel ignored he noticed Bobby discreetly demonstrating how to eat the edamame.

 

“Careful, salt” Bobby warned before jumping up and shouting “BAKA! 1-Ri no yobun'na hito o korosu koto wa hontōni mondaide wanai!” At that same moment most of the other rabid fans shouted at the TV and shook their plastic bottles. Crowley suspected that the other team had scored. Finally Bobby sat down and the bar became eerily quiet.

 

“Never figured you for a baseball fan,” Crowley commented, only to receive a quick death glare from the salarymen. Bobby actually hushed him!

 

“No talking while the Tigers are at bat.” Bobby chided. He did squeeze Crowley’s knee to take the sting out of his words.

 

Instead of sulking Crowley watched Bobby watch the game. His watery blue eyes were alight with unrestrained glee. The demon had never seen him so happy. Of course he had seen the hunter overwhelmed with relief before or snarky and buzzed, but never filled with the joy of watching baseball with a bunch of strangers in a foreign land. To say Crowley was surprised was an understatement.

 

Once the other team was at bat again Bobby ordered sushi and turned to Crowley. “Sorry about that. It is really bad form to talk while the Tigers are bat. And if you can’t tell these guys take their team very seriously. But to answer your question I like baseball here. The fans are the most rabid yet controlled group of people I have ever seen. What about you? Do you like baseball or is cricket more your speed?”

 

Crowley laughed. “No to cricket and baseball. But I admit to getting worked up over football and I don’t mean that American crap.”

 

Bobby smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re a hooligan!”

 

“Perhaps a little. A chance to scream with a crowd, win some money and get in a brawl. Yes that is my idea of a good time. Although I admit the food is better here,” he said as he shoved a large piece of saba nigari in his mouth.

 

They talked while the other team was a bat, Bobby switching between English and Japanese with ease. The salarymen asked if they could practice their English and switched languages. Crowley could talk to anyone; it was one of the traits that had made him so successful as a crossroads demon. Bobby taught him a few choice phrases to shout when the other team was up. It was surprising how much fun both men were having. As the Tigers scored their winning run the bar erupted in cheers and Crowley hugged the bearded man. Amazingly Bobby hugged him back. The bartender rang a bell and shouted something.

 

“Beers are now 40 cents, American,” Bobby translated. Crowley laughed. They stayed a little longer before the demon paid and his hunter led him back out into the city.

 

Bobby led them back out into the city. They weaved through the heavy pedestrian traffic with ease and crossed the river over a foot bridge. Open tour boats cruised below them. It reminded Crowley a little of Paris but with a funner vibe. Gambling games chimed out from arcades and venders hawked their wares. Simply watching the hunter relax and enjoy himself was new and surprising for Crowley. He enjoyed being led around, for once not knowing what is going on and the animated way Bobby sought to keep him informed. After a bit Bobby turned to him.

 

“Hungry?”

 

“I could eat,” the demon responded.

 

The old hunter grabbed his hand as the crowd grew denser. _When was the last time Robert had done something fun for himself that didn’t involve getting drunk alone_ , the demon thought. _He gives so much to other people but only takes the bare minimum to survive for himself. It was sad really. Even the people who cared for him_ , and Crowley admitted there were a few, _never take the time to make sure Robert was well. Once he submits to me, I must make sure to take him to places like this. Let him show off and lead me around. My mortal will have it so good once I break him in. Unlike everyone else in his life, I will treat him right._

Crowley’s thought were interrupted by the wait staff at the restaurant shouting as they entered. It seemed to be a traditional greeting and not a shout to vacate the premises so Crowley followed Bobby to a table. Again the hunter ordered in rapid fire Japanese, never hesitating, sure of what he was doing. Crowley loved it. The table they sat at had an open grill and an odd pan with many round holes in it. Soon a waiter appeared with many raw ingredients and a pitcher of batter.

 

“What is this?” the shorter man asked his date.

 

“This is Takoyaki! Here you grease the pan.” Bobby handed him a brush and a dish of oil.

“You know I’ll pay to actually have someone cook for you, luv.” Crowley responded as he generously coated the pan.

 

Bobby’s face fell. “Hey we can get hot octo balls delivered to the table, I just thought this was more fun.”

 

Crowley reached out and grabbed Bobby’s hands before he could speak to the waiter. He looked up at the taller man, so handsome in his new suit. A soft smile spread across Crowley’s lips and his brown eyes warmed.

 

“No luv, this is fun. I am sorry if my default snarkyess is ruining this. I am actually surprised at what a great time I am having. I love how you move through this city, darling. I must admit your take charge and lead attitude is incredibly captivating. I am having a fabulous time and am looking forward to cooking for you.”

 

Bobby smiled. “I am glad you are having a good time. Now put your fillings in the holes.”

 

Together the men stuffed baby octopus cheese, green onion and ginger into the pan. Bobby poured the batter over the top and showed Crowley how to pull the bottom of the pan out and the balls hit the heat of the burner below. Bobby used long chopsticks to turn the balls over cooking each side evenly. Once done he popped them out onto their plates.

 

“Careful hot,” he warned as copious amounts of bonito and spicy mustered were added to his balls. The demon king did not heed is warning and popped a hot ball into his mouth. One bite and molten cheese was burning his mouth. Bobby laughed at the king of hell franticly fanning his mouth.

 

“I did warn you,” Bobby teased as he ordered sake. When the drinks arrived, Crowley threw his back quickly. Before he knew how it happened, Bobby was doing sake shots with his takoyaki and laughing with the demon king. As they finished their food, Bobby had become slightly buzzed and quite relaxed.

 

“I am going to see a man about a horse,” he announced. Crowley paused and pressed something into Bobby’s hand under the table. Bobby felt the now familiar shape and paled. All the previous glee drained from his face and laugher faded. Crowley bit his lip.

 

“None of that poppet, just need to trade them out. This is for your own comfort. Remember no martyrs. Take as much time as you need, but when you return be ready to continue being wonderful company.” Here he reached across the table and snagged Bobby’s free hand. “You have been doing fabulous, everything I wanted and by far exceeding my expectations. I think you have been having a good time, and nothing needs to change that. I want you to have a good time and I will take care of you.”

 

Bobby just nodded, withdrew his hands and left the table. Crowley leaned back in his chair and signed. Why did his mortal have to make things so difficult? If he would accept the fact that he belonged to Crowley all this would be much simpler. Nothing would change the fact that Robert Singer was Crowley’s, had been since that kiss. Squirming out of their deal changed nothing. Hadn’t Crowley shown him how good he could treat him? Giving Robert back his legs, without being asked, showing up when he was desperate? _Oh well_ , Crowley thought as he signaled the waiter with his black card, _what bribery and deceit failed to deliver, force surely would_.

 

            When Bobby returned his smile was guarded and his body was tense. But he was trying and Crowley would take that.

 

            “If you’re ready we do have another destination that I think you will enjoy. But if there is something else in Osaka you want, we have time to do that first.” Crowley offered.

 

            Bobby nodded. “I could spend weeks here, but let’s see what you have planned. I’m excited.” He wasn’t, but the attempt counted.

 

            Again Bobby turned around and found himself in in a completely new location. He was in a long hall way, the ceiling was curved and the walls were cream with amazing art.

 

            “Where are we?” Bobby asked.

 

           

            “The Prado, luv. Have you been?”

 

            “Madrid? No…No I have never been. This is..” here turned around the hall in awe, “I mean. This is, this is one of the best art collections in the world. And Madrid, no, I have never been.” Bobby stammered. He stopped in front of a painting of _La Maja Desnuda_. He just stared at the naked women. Her eyes seemed to stare into his soul. Everything else fell away. Crowley stood a few feet away in his perfectly tailored suit and just let Bobby commune with the painting. Ten minutes at least passed in silence as Bobby stared at the woman. As he slowly came back to himself he realized that he and Crowley appeared to be alone in the museum. Bobby stepped away from the painting and turned back to Crowley. The demon was sitting on a bench. His smile was kind and indulgence.

 

            “I take it you like, luv?”

 

            “Yeah, I do. It’s amazing. I take it we got the place to ourselves?”

 

            “A minor perk of dating the King of Hell, darling. Take your time and enjoy. If you like I can point out a few of my favorite pieces.”

 

            Bobby nodded, his eyes entranced by the _La Maja Vestirda_ , the clothed version of the previous piece. The clothed woman was equally captivating as she was naked, her stare still bold and her lips quirked. After Goya, Bobby moved on to Titian. The hunter was pleased he wore a fine suit. Not that anyone was here judge him, but it felt good to look his best as he was experiencing some of the greatest works in Europe. Crowley let him set the pace, never rushing him, but offering commentary on select pieces he seemed to have deeper knowledge of. Bobby wished he knew more about art. He could rattle off the names of masters easily enough and understood their place in mythology, history and religion. But he didn’t know enough about composition and style. In another life he would have liked to study art and poetry. But that was a life he would never live, so he would enjoy this evening and take in enough to sustain him for the rest of his life. The hunter needed very little to survive and only took the bare minimum. This night had been a feast for his senses despite how full his ass felt.

 

            As Bobby stared up at Titan’s _Bacnai de los Andrios_ and the nude nymph in recline, he felt his soul soar. He didn’t care that Crowley was the one giving him this or that the demon would try to take more from him than the hunter was willing to give. The people in the painting were laughing, dancing and drinking with Bacchus laid out in the background.

 

There were paintings of country side and common people working the land, of weathered men and kings and queens, paintings of gods and goddess, of Mars reclining asleep at the feet of Venus, Pietas of Mary holding her son and the gamut of human suffering. Perhaps not surprisingly what Bobby loved most were paintings of soft, fleshy women with golden hair and bold eyes. Veronese was good with his Venus and Adonis, as were Goya and Titan. But none of the masters captured the lush beauty of the female form quite like Ruben. Crowley led Bobby down a corridor to stand in front of _The Three Graces_. A scrap man from South Dakoda stood in private in front of one of the finest pieces of art in the world, an honor that at one time was reserved for kings. It was humbling.

 

            “Ruben painted women so much more alive and sensual than other artists. Compare this to Raphael’s Three Graces where each woman looks the same. They are stiff and coiffed as women of their time, their hair perfectly styled though their bodies are nude. But that is Raphael for you. Ruben wanted none of that. His graces are fleshier and more alive. He uses yellow, red and blue to color their flesh, the same primary colors that the make up the appearance of the world and the entire cosmos is here in their thighs and arms,” Crowley commented.

 

            Bobby stood there, gazing up at the painting with glassy eyes. “Is that why it moves me so?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

 

            Crowley smiled, not his normal smirk but a soft, indulgent smile that Bobby missed, engrossed as he was in the painting. “No, I suspect you love it because they are the goddesses of pleasant charm, of charitable deeds and gratitude, without them nothing would be graceful or pleasing. These women give humanity friendliness, uprightness of character, sweetness and conversation.”

 

            Bobby turned away from the painting, feeling coarse and base in his borrowed suit. His hands were rough and under the layer of old spice he smelt of oil, gunpowder and salt. At one point in his life he thought that he could be worthy to stand in the light of such grace and beauty, but the powers that be quickly dissuaded him of that notion by the most brutal means possible. As penance for his audacity he spent most of his life alone, only indulging in the gifts those Graces brought in the rare moments Fate allowed, such as when motherless boys were placed in his care. Mostly he turned his cunning brain and strong back to killing monsters as offerings to Grace that would never be his. Bobby’s soul dropped and soared with such sweet torture that he had to get away.

 

            “You seem to know a lot about this art stuff. Do you have a favorite piece here?” Bobby asked his voice rough with emotion.

 

            “Course I do pet, and it is filled with naked ladies, although not quite the same you seem to enjoy.” The demon responded. He grasped Bobby’s hand and led him down the hall at an easy pace so that the mortal could still take in the passing pieces. It took about ten minutes before they stopped in front of a huge, three paneled alter piece.

 

            Bobby snorted as they stopped. “Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights? Isn’t that a little trite for the Rey del Infierno?”

 

It was, trite that is. The first panel depicted Adam and Eve in the Garden with God, at peace with all creatures, surreal and mystical. The middle, larger panel showed humanity’s indulgence in lust, gluttony, and greed. Lovers groped each other in bubbles, men ate fruit from the beaks of giant birds, a woman beat the ass of a man with flowers, while more flowers were shoved in his ass, and people rode all types of animals. It was in a word, bizarre. The finally panel was of course Hell. Gluttons were themselves eaten, lechers were molested, giant ears held a large kitchen knife and demons danced.

 

“Perhaps.” Offered Crowley as he ran his fingers up Bobby’s back. “But I like the reminder that they are all mine in the end.”

 

Bobby leaned back into the touch, even as he stood in front of a vivid reminder of were all this should lead. “It doesn’t really fit your endless queue, though.”

 

“True.” Crowley’s voice had dropped deeper with blatant lust. Somehow Bobby was not running from his touch, so Crowley boldly moved forward, tracing his fingers around the taller man’s torso. Then he leaned up and pulled the mortal’s head down, pressing his lips against his.

 

Bobby’s heart was racing. He didn’t know what he expected, but after everything he had felt here, this somehow seemed right. Crowley’s kisses became a balm for his soul, bruised by what it could never have. In that moment Bobby leaned back into the demon and let himself go.

 

Gone was the Garden of Earthly Delights and the cool cream walls of the Prado. In its place was a throne room with rich red carpet, glittering chandlers, gilded portraits of kings and ornate clocks. Bobby recognized it as the Palacio Real. Crowley pushed Bobby back onto the throne. On either side were two huge gold lions pouncing on stone spheres. Crowley straddled and kissed him feverously. As lust filled his veins, the vulnerable cloud left his mind and he started to wonder exactly what Crowley had planned. He didn’t push the demon off, but he no longer kissed back, his body going stiff.

 

Crowley pulled back and smiled down at his pet. Bobby’s lips were swollen and his eyes were blown wide. The king of Hell grinned as he undid the hunter’s buckle and pulled his touchers and shorts down in one fluid movement. While Bobby might not be sure about what was happening, his cock was surely excited to find out as it sprung free. With no prelude Crowley leaned forward and swallowed him whole. Bobby arched his whole body in shock and cried out in pleasure. Crowley’s tongue worked around the head of his cock, swirling around and flicking the weeping slit. Crowley’s lips pressed against Bobby’s groin, his throat open and taking his cock straight down, then he pulled off, letting his teeth graze against the shaft. He got to the tip and sucked as hard as could so that when he came off fully there was a loud pop. He licked and sucked the head like he was going after a lollipop. Bobby’s rough hands ran through Crowley’s short hair. The hunter moaned wantonly as the plug was pushed up against his ass. Crowley took him all the way down again and Bobby thrusted forward. He felt the plug in ass move and tug. Gently Crowley removed it, only to press an even larger one against his puckered entrance. The pleasure on his cock mingled with the stretching in his ass and Bobby stared up at the fresco on the ceiling. His pulse was racing and his heart pounding. _Did he like this? Was it a trap? If he let go enough to enjoy it, how much would he have to pay later_. Crowley’s talented tongue swirled around his cock as his throat swallowed him down. Bobby was close to so he tapped Crowley’s head. The demon responded by looking up into his eyes and sucking harder, one hand working the huge plug in the other fondling Bobby’s balls. As the plug plunged all the way into his ass, Bobby broke, cumming down Crowley’s throat. The demon responded by swallowing it all down like a starving man. He lapped gently as his pet came down, then came off his cock with a loud pop. He pulled up Bobby’s pants and tucked him back into his shorts.

 

As Bobby came back to himself he stared up at Crowley before reaching for the other man’s belt to return the favor. Crowley stopped him.

 

“No pet, that was for you. I will have mine soon enough.” He helped the hunter up from the throne and reached around to squeeze his butt cheek. “How do you feel?”

 

“Full. I can’t tell if I like it or not. But it is a lot. Is there a bigger one coming?” Bobby responded.

 

Crowley’s eyes glinted with lust and desire. “No luv that is the last one. I promised to take care of you and I am. Don’t worry, I have you. Now do you want to explore the palace or head out into the Puerta del Sol for people watching and tapas crawl?”

 

Bobby looked around the gilded room. “I could use a drink I think, and some fresh air.”

 

“Plaza it is.” As soon as Crowley spoke the words they were outside, in the square. It was late at night, the air slightly chill. This being Spain, the streets were still filled with people. Bobby breathed deep and Crowley gave him time to settle himself. Soon the two men found themselves on a _Paseo_ , while hand in hand.

 

They strolled passed crowded shops even though it as very light at night. Bobby recalled that Spaniards didn’t take dinner until after 9:00 pm, but still it seemed odd. They were over dressed for most of the crowd, but neither man seemed particularly bothered by that fact. Crowley led Bobby into a popular stall covered in hanging meat. The charcuterie was busy, but the demon finagled them a table. He ordered in rapid Spanish and a plate of thinly sliced cured meat, cheeses and two glasses of dark port appeared in front of them. Crowley raised his glass to Bobby.

 

“Chin-Chin,” both men said as they clinked glasses and drank deeply. Crowley stabbed a thin slice of Jamon with a toothpick and popped it into Bobby’s mouth before the hunter could object. The ham was very good, but Bobby had no desire to be fed.

 

“I can handle you ordering for me, but I prefer to feed myself,” he grouched.

 

“But I prefer to feed you and this is my date.” Crowley shoved another piece of meat into Bobby’s mouth. Instead of complaining, Bobby rolled his eyes and moaned wantonly.

 

“What was that?” he wondered.

 

“Iberico, ham made from free range mountain pigs fed a diet of acorns. I find that happy animals always make the best dinner.”

 

As Crowley continued to feed him smoked meats, Manchego, Iberico and Tetilla cheeses and house wines, Bobby wondered if that was what Crowley as doing to him, making him happy before he led him to the slaughter. Like the happy pick running though the hill side and rooting up acorns, made better ham, would a hunter filled with good booze, food and art provide better sex? Was sex all that Crowley wanted, or did he have something else planned. The pleasantness of the evening was seductive and Bobby knew that he was vulnerable. Yet if he took steps to protect himself he would not be giving Crowley the night he had bargained for. Besides it might already be too late for him.

 

At the third, or fourth stop of the night, Bobby was drinking house wine while eating _Gazpacho_ and _La Orega de Oro_ (saluted pigs ear). They had already had _Huevos con Charrico, Potatoes Bravo_ and _Gambals Al Ajllio_ at various other stops. He sighed.

 

“I am getting full,” he commented as they dropped their litter on the floor. That is how you roll in Madrid and Bobby always tried to do as the locals in his travels. Crowley’s lips smirked.

 

“La Cuenta,” he called to the server. “Well pet, I do have one more stop planned in the city, if you are not getting to tired.”

 

Bobby grinned at the challenge. “Naw, I am use to staying up all night. I admit this is more enjoyable than researching for some ungrateful punk too stupid to live and to rude to thank me. Lay on, Macduff.”

 

Crowley paid the check and led them on out into the night air. They headed down a dark alleyway, far from the bustling crowd. Cutting across side streets and narrow lanes, Bobby became hopelessly lost before they stopped in front of a small bookstore. Crowley pushed open the dingy door and held it for his date. Bobby entered and looked around. It was small and dingy, but covered in books. Now the hunter was a well know bibliophile, but this shop didn’t seem as impressive as everything else they had done. Still he looked around politely, understanding that this was for him. Crowley smirked knowingly at him. The clerk stepped forward.

 

“How may I help you fine gentlemen?” he queried.

 

“We would like to see the athenaeum.” Crowley responded.

 

The clerk looked Bobby up and down. “I am not sure what you mean sir,” he responded.

 

Crowley’s eyes flared red and his voice dropped. Power pooled around him and he stood looking every bit the Rey del Infierno. The clerk shuttered.

 

“My apologies sir, right this way.”  The creature turned, at this point Bobby was sure it was not human, but he had no idea what it was, and pulled a lever. A bookcase slide aside and a stairwell was revealed. Crowley’s eyes returned to the human brown and he pulled a torch out his pocket and lead Bobby down the secret passageway. As the passageway opened up, Bobby stopped and gasped.

 

Crowley stood back with a shit eating grin as Bobby turned a full 360 taking in the cavern of books.

 

“Balls” the hunter whispered. The shelfs of books went up over four stories with ladders and stairs leading up higher. In the center of the room was a card catalog, a set of reference desks and a few plush leather armchairs. They were not alone in the athenaeum and from the stares he was receiving Bobby was sure he was the only human. He wished that he had at least a silver knife and salt. Crowley seemed to read his mind as he spoke:

 

“Don’t worry pet, I told you that I have you. You are perfectly safe, assuming you don’t channel those two muttonheads you claimed, everything will be smooth. I feel remiss for not buying you any presents on this date so you have 45 minutes to pick out five books.”

 

With that Crowley plopped down on one of the armchairs and grinned as Bobby looked around the bibilotheca in awe.

 

“Balls.” There was no way for him to make his way through the whole place. He started with the card catalog and worked quickly. Before he knew it, a strange man appeared at his side.

 

“Excuse me sir, but your _date_ has requested your presence below,” the creature politely informed him.

 

“Uhh, thank you,” the hunter responded. He looked down at the center of the room to see Crowley standing with a raised eyebrow looking indulgent. Bobby waved, sheepishly down at him, his arm full of books. He came down to the reference and paired his collection down. In one stack he had five books and in another he had two more. Crowley quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Thought I said five, pet. How are you going to earn the extra two.”

 

Bobby blushed. “Ah, those two are for Sam. I was going to buy them myself.”

 

Crowley smirked at his pet. “I am afraid you can’t buy these books with cash luv. But worry naught, Moose will get his present. Come on.”

 

With that the demon king lead him back out to the ground level, out of the shop and to the Plaza Mayor.

 

“Well darling, I don’t want to get you too tired. You ready to head home?” He leered at the mortal.

 

Bobby swallowed. “I thought maybe we could get a room here. Be romantic and all.”

 

“I would love to, pet. But it is important to me that I have you in your own bed. I want you to wake every morning remembering what we did.” His hands felt down and grabbed Bobby’s derriere.

 

Bobby’s eyes bugged out. The plug felt heavy inside him. He clutched his books closer to his chest like every school girl troupe. “I just don’t want the boys to look at me like some sacrfical virgin.”

 

“Oh that is easy to fix. We will bypass the downstairs and come right up in your room.”

 

“How about in front of the door so I can get the room ready?” Bobby countered.

 

“That sounds perfect love. You ready to go now?”

 

“Just a moment.” Bobby hedged. He took a few deep breaths. He was not ready, but he would have to be. Out of the corner of his eye he spied a bakery.

 

“I have to get something for Dean first,” Bobby stalled. He lead the way over to the _Antigua Pasteleria del Pozo_. Once inside he started to select items like crazy. His Spanish was perfect and the baker had not issue keeping up. He picked out a 9 inch Spanish pie or  Empanada, a dozen _bartolillos_ (half-moon pies filled with custard and fried) and open face apple pie.  Crowley paid without complaint and actually added a dozen croissants for Bobby’s breakfast.

 

Leaving the shop Bobby’s arms were overlaid with baked goods and books. Instead of opening up onto the plaza, Bobby was staring at his own bedroom door. It was time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have one chapter left and it is the sex! I hope to have it up this week. If you have any requests, please let them be known. I really appreciate all your feedback and comments. They make me so happy.


	6. Chapter 5 – Burnt Sugar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we are at The Sex. If you have not seen the amazing art on Mostly Harmless, I highly recommend it. http://gorlassar.tumblr.com/ I want to thank everyone who commented on this story, you really encouraged me. As special thanks to LilyAnson http://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAnson/pseuds/LilyAnson for supporting me. I admit I am nervous for this chapter and I hope that you all enjoy it.

# Chapter 5 – Burnt Sugar

Crowley stood alone in front of Bobby’s bedroom door. He had given the hunter a three minute head start to prepare the room. Time was up and Crowley pushed the door open. The room was lit in warm candle light. Soft music played in the background. The packages were stacked neatly on the dresser. Bobby looked up as Crowley entered the room. His hair was lightly mussed; he wore only a white undershirt and light blue boxers. Crowley sucked in a deep breath, soaking in the sight. Bobby’s thighs were covered in thick, dark hair that disappeared into the shorts. The candle light made his skin glow and his watery blue eyes shine bright. He was standing by an arm chair folding his suit pants, the shirt and jacket already folded and neatly stacked.

 

“I didn’t know if you would be wanting the suite back or not. I still have the garment bag,” the hunter offered.

 

“No, it was a gift, keep it,” Crowley responded, his voice soft and heavy. He strode forward and removed his jacket and tie. His pet’s arms were large, muscular and covered in hair up to his elbows. He kicked off his shoes and socks next as he stood in front of the hunter. He reached out and traced his fingers over Bobby’s arms. The crisscross of scars marked him as a warrior, proud. A woman sang softly on the radio:

 

 _“He tried hard to help me_  
You know, he put me at ease  
And he loved me so naughty  
Made me weak in the knees  
Oh I wish I had a river  
I could skate away on”

 

Bobby leaned down and kissed Crowley, his fingers thumbing open the shorter man’s tie. Crowley opened his mouth and let the hunter slid his tongue in. Bobby’s rough beard rubbed against his lips. Crowley reached around and grabbed Bobby by his buttocks. The hunter growled into his mouth. Teeth raked over lips and tongues darted across each other. Bobby lifted Crowley and dropped him on the bed with a bounce. The demon king looked up at the mortal with a hungry grin on his face. If his pet wanted to be aggressive, who was he to argue? He noticed a bottle of lube next to him on the bed; it seemed that Bobby was ready to go.

 

“Clothes off,” Bobby growled.

 

Crowley eagerly undid the first few buttons and then pulled his shirt over his head. He looked up at his darling, the candle light creating a glow around him. The king of hell could not believe how well this night was going, Bobby would finally be his. Then he met the other man’s eyes and his breath caught.

 

Yes, Bobby was passionate. Yes, he was going to have sex. Yes, he would be active, no lying on the bed and thinking of England for him. But none of that mattered because the man climbing on top of him was not his lover, or eager partner. He was a hunter, pushed into a corner and doing what was needed to in order to see the dawn. Like every other hunt, he would do what was needed to be done, go home and drink. This was nothing to him. Crowley was nothing to him and the demon would not stand for it.

 

Crowley rolled them over so that he was now on top, pinning Bobby to the bed. The demon would not stand for a pale imitation or make lie to the passion he felt for the mortal. If Bobby didn’t want him, fine, but let them be honest about it. With little effort he used his powers to pin the large man to the bed, his arms secured above his head and his legs spread wide. He stood up at the end of the bed and grinned evilly down at his prey, his eyes glowing red. With a snap of his fingers, Bobby’s boxers and undershirt were gone, leaving the man naked. The hunter struggled against the unseen bonds.

 

“Hey princess, this is not necessary. I am willing. If you don’t like me so aggressive, just say so, I can play passive too. This is your fantasy, what do you want?”

 

“Oh, Robert, I don’t want a fantasy. Not from you. Between us there should only be truth. So if you don’t actually want me,” here he reached forward, brought Bobby’s knees up and spread his leg, exposing the gaudy plug sparking in Bobby’s ass, “I will have to settle for raping you gently.”

 

“Balls! Crowley, this was not the deal” Bobby struggled harder, but the king’s power was more than ample to keep him pinned down.

 

“Oh I disagree pet. The deal was to have a night of fun, and believe me this will be fun.” With that Crowley pulled the plug out, causing Bobby cry out.

 

“Now that is a beautiful sight. Your virgin hole is all stretched out and waiting for me. Here you should see this.” With that Crowley pulled out his phone and took a picture.

 

“NO! You mouth breathing dick monkey, do not take a picture,” Bobby shouted.

 

Crowley laughed and laid down next to his trapped pet. He held his phone up so that Bobby could see his gapping asshole. He moaned and tried to look away, his face was on fire. Crowley would not let him escape that easy. Not only did he force the hunter to look, but he also thumbed through the photos that Bobby had not even realized he took. Some were of Bobby laughing, or eating. One was of him staring at a painting, his face open and vulnerable.

 

“I can’t decide if I like that one or this one best, luv.” He flicked over to another one of Bobby, completely debauched on the throne of the King of Spain. Bobby swallowed hard. Crowley sat up and slid a finger inside of Bobby, instantly cleaning him out and removing the lube.

 

“Now let’s see what other delightful poses I can put you.” With that Crowley dropped between Bobby’s knees and licked the open hole. Bobby gasped and moaned as the demon dipped his tongue deep into hole. His cheeks were spread wide and Crowley buried his face deep. The same woman sang out into the quite room:

 

“ _We are stardust, we are golden_  
And we've got to get ourselves back to the garden.  
Then can I walk beside you  
I have come here to lose the smog”

 

Crowley licked and nipped at the mortal’s ass like a starving man at a banquet. It was so unbelievably naughty doing this to Bobby. The exquisite noises his pet was making caused his cock to go rock hard. The song ended and a new one begun. Crowley continued to ravish his poppet, licking down past the first ring and calming the sore flesh that had been forced to stretch out over the large plug. Bobby began to buck uncontrollably at the feeling of a wet sliding in his hole. Finally Crowley pulled his head away and leaned back on his heels to survey his handy work.

“Look at you, all laid out for daddy.” Bobby was wanton, his skin glistening in the candle light. Crowley ran his fingers up and down the hunter’s powerful legs.

 

“Magnificent,” Crowley crooned. He stood and his pants and boxers disappeared. He stood naked and proud. Bobby licked his lips staring up at him. Crowley’s dragon tattoos almost seemed to move along his arms in the candle light. He slowly took his cock in his hand and stroked it. Bobby’s eyes widened taking in the sight. Crowley was well endowed, his cock long and thick. The demon may not have picked the meat suit just for the tats and being well hung, but neither hurt. Precum leaked from the slit as the demon king worked it up and down. The candles made his skin glow and lit him from behind. His eyes shone red with desire and Bobby shivered in his bonds.

 

Crowley moved between Bobby’s open legs and hunched over his body, kissing and nudging at his neck. He kissed, nipped and licked his lover’s flesh. Bobby tasted of salt, whisky and burnt sugar. Their cocks rubbed against each other and the taller man couldn’t hold back his moan. It was an erotic mixture of pain and pleasure that sent ripples down Crowley’s spine. He breathed in deep and tasted burnt sugar on the air. That is what the dazzling swirl of Bobby’s soul reminded him of.  Golden and cracked, exposed to the heat and torment so long it became hard and brittle, yet it still shined like polished glass. It was rare to find a soul so perfectly tempered outside of Hell, and yet all the tortured souls of Hell had long since lost their sweetness, if they had ever possessed it. Bobby was the perfect mix of bitter and sweet. And he was all Crowley’s.

 

The pressure of their two cocks pressing against each other was fantastic. Bobby, still pinned on his back, lifted his hips, seeking out the teasing touch, but he had no control and could only rut helplessly unless Crowley designed to give him satisfaction. Crowley used his powers to bring Bobby’s legs up and wrap them around his waist. Crowley’s knees pressed into the mattress as he lifted Bobby’s buttock up into the air and pushed it against his own groin. Crowley’s hands dug into the bed on both side of his pet and he forced Bobby’s arms to wrap around his neck. With one arm holding his body up, he used his free hand to grasp his cock and rubbed its head against the entrance to Bobby’s hole; pressing in.

 

“Please! Crowley, Please stop! Not like this.” Bobby cried out.

 

The demon paused and looked down at the hunter. The fear in those blue eyes stilled him and his eyes faded to chocolate brown.

 

“What is it pet? What do you need?”

 

“Can you use lube, please? The stuff I have on the bed. It’s just too much otherwise.”

 

Crowley released his cock and traced a finger along the side of Bobby’s face. “Ah, pet, I find it hard to refuse you anything when you beg so prettily.” He grabbed the lube, leaned back farther and poured a generous amount on his cock.

 

“If that is true then please stop this. I agreed to sex, but not to this. Please.”

 

“Darling, you are so tempting. You have no idea what that begging does to me. How good I could take care of you, if you would only let me. But you won’t.” He then leaned forward and pressed and the head of his cock against the opening of Bobby’s ass. Slowly and carefully he pushed forward. “Don’t worry, pet, I’ll make it real good for you. I will rape you softly. “

 

            Bobby’s arms were pulled taunt over his head, his hands clasped together. He was still forced flat on his back, Crowley on top of him. Against his will Bobby’s legs were wrapped around the demon’s hips, his ass lifted into the air. Crowley was on top of him again, his body hunched and his cock driving slowly in. Bobby couldn’t prevent the little mewing noises from escaping his lips as Crowley’s cock slowly filled him. He was stretched open from the plug and well lubed. His hole was relaxed from the special lube Crowley had agreed to use and the hunter had no trouble taking Crowley’s fat cock.

 

            “Bollocks!” Crowley cursed. His pet was so unbelievably tight, despite all the prep. “Your ass is just so hungry for me poppet. Look at you just taking me in me so deep. Robert you were made for getting fucked!”

 

            Just then Crowley hit Bobby’s prostate and the hunter threw back his head to shout.

 

            “Ah, ah, aaaaah, FUCK!” he screamed. Crowley laughed and kept thrusting. Seeing how easy Bobby took him, he picked up the pace thrusting hard and rough into his pet. Bobby shook his head back and forth against the bed. Crowley raised himself up onto his knees, lifting Bobby higher into the air, the mortals legs still wrapped around his waist. His cock plunged deeper into his lover.

 

            “Ah Christ, Fuck, nuh, Ah God, God yes Please.” Bobby cried out as his prostate was rammed. Crowley grabbed both of Bobby’s legs for leverage and jack hammered into Bobby. The mortal was thrashing against the bed now, being driven wild with lust, but he couldn’t cum from penetration alone.

 

            “You are magnificent. You’re so very close now aren’t you Robert? About ready to explode, but you can’t,” here he thrusted deep and hard, causing Bobby to cry out, “quite get over the edge now can you?”

 

            Crowley used his power to send an invisible force to grasp the human’s aching cock. Bobby was thick, cut and angry, leaking pre cum like a sieve. The force around his cock was like a vice, yet it was hot and wet too. The friction on his cock combined with the pressure on his prostate and the overwhelming sense of being filled quickly sent Bobby over the edge.

 

            “Uhh, Oh, Oh, Fuck! Ah, Lord, Unnhhh Fuck!” Bobby screamed as he came, his whole body arching forward and thrashing about, the demon bonds barely keeping him in check.

            Watching Bobby come undone was one of the sexiest things Crowley had ever seen. With a few more thrusts he too was cumming deep inside his pet. He fell down on top of Bobby and held him tight, his cock still buried deep.

 

            Bobby was shaking hard as the demon bonds released him. The fall out from sex like that was intense and the need for comfort nearly overwhelming. Crowley ran his hands up and down Bobby’s side and whispered in his ear.

 

            “You are perfect, so splendid luv. You did so good, darling. You are exquisite. So marvelous my pet. You are resplendent in your glow,” he praised and kept moving his hands all over Bobby, calming him and bringing him down. This is what he wanted, Robert thoroughly wrecked, shivering and in need of comfort. It does not matter that Crowley was the one who wrecked him, he needed to be put back together, and that is exactly what Crowley offered. The demon king had been selling sin to saints for centuries, he knew how to tempt a good man. How to make a strong, cunning hunter his. Crowley smiled.  

 

            Bobby was not sure how much time had passed since his orgasm. Not too much time as the cum leaking down his thighs is still warm. The first fingers of dawn’s early light slip into the bedroom. Bobby sits up, still slightly weak. A glass is pressed to his lips and he drinks deeply of the cool water. He looks up to see Crowley sitting on the bed next to him, getting dressed.

 

            “Take it easy luv, I wore you out. You did so well though. Everything I could have wanted. Tell me the truth now; did you have any fun at all on our date?”

 

            Bobby sighed. He was tired. “Yeah, some. You picked amazing locations and you weren’t half bad company most of the time. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday night. Though I admit the sex was not something I see myself ordering again. Why did you have to do it like that?”

 

            “Because I wanted you to know that I had been inside you. I want you to go to bed at night and know that I had you, that I owned you right here and you cried out for me. I know you so well, your body can’t control me, can’t stop me. I took what I wanted despite what you freely offered. I was inside you. Tell me, was it worth it.” Crowley’s eyes gleam at his impassioned speech.

            Bobby leans back a little and pauses for a moment soaking in what Crowley had just said. He tries, he tries hard but just can’t hold back his laugh.

            “Was it worth it? Instead of lighting a pyre and burning both my boys, I am going to go downstairs and pie for breakfast with them. And all it cost me was visiting amazing cities, staring at art, watching baseball, eating and drinking. This was the best deal I have ever made. And as for you being inside me, Balls, you don’t even rank in the 20 worst things I have ever had inside me.” Bobby states as he wipes himself clean and pulls on his pants.

            Crowley looks at him in shock. Out of every way he saw this date ending, he never thought it would be like this.

            “What was number 20?” he asks, his voice watery.

            Bobby finishes pulling his shirt over his head. He pauses in the pale dawn light, the candles have burned themselves out. He smiles a crooked little grin.

            “Dates over Crowley, time to head back to hell.” He picks up the packages from the dresser and heads out of the room. Crowley just sits on bed completely flummoxed.

            “Bollocks”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that is it friends. I hope you enjoyed. But please don't think our favorite snarky king of hell is going to give up that easy. He has tried trickery and been outfoxed, he tried force and Bobby just took it. What can he try next? BTW what do you think was the worst thing Bobby has had inside his body?


	7. End Credits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is your reward for sticking around after all the credits and finding out who the master gaffer and best boy is.

**End Credits**

 

Bobby, Sam and Dean sat around the small wooden table in Bobby's kitchen. The early morning light filled the room. The room smelled of coffee and bacon. Dean was eating an open face Spanish apple pie straight from the tin. A couple of strips of bacon remained on his plate. Bobby leaned back in his chair sipping his coffee. He had polished off two empanadas, three strips of bacon and pile of eggs. Sam was still working through his plate of fresh cute fruit and just baked croissants. All three men looked exhausted, their heads heavy and bodies' hunched over. The only sound in the kitchen of hunters chewing. Finally Sam leaned back and looked at Bobby.

 

"So, did you like it?"

 

"Sam!" Dean scolded.


	8. Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a real chapter, just an update. This story is now an ongoing series.

I decided to make this story an on going series. Stories will differ in tone and rating but the ultimate goal is a Crobby Love Story. The problem being that Crowley is a very bad demon who does not do healthy relationships. He will keep getting close to the object of his desire and then ruining things, until he learns how to treat Bobby as partner. This might take a while. I hope you an enjoy this story.


End file.
